


Where I travel goes my heart

by Fatale (femme)



Series: happily ever after, kind of [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 09:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15883362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/femme/pseuds/Fatale
Summary: Alec says, “I didn’t even bring any clothes. I had to leave them with Jace, and God only knows what he's doing with them. Probably putting them all on at once and trying to roll across our dorm room.”“Clothes are overrated,” Magnus says, amused.---A royalty au. Magnus is a prince. Alec is perpetually stressed out.





	Where I travel goes my heart

**Author's Note:**

> Directly follows "You know we're gonna do it right."
> 
> The idea is for this to be a bridge between two longer stories, but admittedly, the second story is kind of not written at all, and I'm writing 4 other stories right now. So...
> 
> Title is from Hearthside by Dorothy Parker

 

 

 

 

On the plane, a tiny little puddle-jumper that shakes in every strong breeze, Alec clutches the armrests in a white-knuckled grip. He’s convinced they’re going to drop unceremoniously from the sky like turd from a giant swollen bird.

“You’re going to rip the leather,” Magnus murmurs, leaning over. “Relax, these are very safe.”

The whole flight and the one before, Magnus kept looking over at Alec disbelievingly, repeatedly touching his hand as if he couldn’t believe Alec was really there.

“Are they really?” Alec says. “Because I think Lynard Skynyrd died in a place just like this. Maybe this exact one.”

“Uh,” Magnus says delicately. “Relatively safe?”

“Can we change the subject?” Alec asks miserably. He has no real issue with flying, not usually, but this is little more than a wadded-up ball of tinfoil sling-shotted through the air. “I didn’t even bring any clothes. I had to leave them with Jace, and God only knows what he's doing with them. Probably putting them all on at once and trying to roll across our dorm room.”

“Clothes are overrated,” Magnus says, amused.

Spoken like someone wearing three layers of them, Alec thinks darkly. “I’m not walking around naked,” he insists.

“More’s the pity,” Magnus says. “Still, I think we can find something for you to wear. I technically rule an entire country. I'll order the first peasant to strip and hand over their clothes."

"I don't think that'll be necessary," Alec says quickly. He thinks Magnus is joking, but can't be entirely sure. “What’s it like in Edom?” He knows what he’s read, but information on the country of such a notorious monarchy is shockingly scant.

“Like any other wealthy and extremely isolated tax haven for the uber-rich.”

Alec mumbles, “I’m sure I’ll feel right at home.”

“You don’t have to stay for long,” Magnus says, peering out the window.

That diversionary tactic worked better when there was something to look at besides an endless expanse of blue sky and clouds.

“I told you, I’m staying for as long as you want me to,” Alec says, and takes Magnus’ hand, turning it over in his own and lacing their fingers together. It is hard to believe sometimes how far they’ve come from their weird first encounter, but here they are in a shaky tin can, running off to Magnus' country so he can be king. And Alec his official boyfriend or whatever, not princess like Jace says. 

Across the aisle, one of Magnus’ bodyguards pulls a set of knitting needles out of his bag.

“Really?” Alec asks the bodyguard.

“You think we spend all day watching Magnus pine over you?”

Magnus makes an outraged noise. “I have never pined--”

“I told you to be honest, brother,” he says serenely. “Just lay your feelings out on the table and he would either return them or not.”

“You’re such a hippie, Eugene,” Magnus tells him.

“Eugene?” Alec interjects.

“You got a problem with that?” Eugene asks.

“No,” Alec says quickly, remembering Eugene’s great size when he stands. “It’s a lovely name,”

“Thank you,” Eugene says, pulling out some purple yarn and starting to work. Alec can't tell what he's making; it's quite misshapen and lumpy.

“He doesn’t really get sarcasm,” Magnus mutters.

“I got that,” Alec says.

“Petunia, on the other hand--”

“Oh my God, do you pick people for their stupid names?” Alec whispers furiously.

“Hey, now. Names in Edom are colorful. You’ll meet more at my father’s funeral.”

“Jesus, yeah, whatever you need,” Alec says. He feels a little bad that in the race through the airport, he kind of forgot.

“It’s okay,” Magnus says, looking down at their intertwined hands. “We weren’t close, or haven’t been for a long time. He wasn’t--a good man. It’s complicated.”

“Well, you’re the best man I know,” Alec says honestly.

“Am I?” Magnus says, looking a little lost. “I try to be.”

“You are,” Alec says firmly. He’s not used to Magnus being so unsure of himself, but losing a parent must do that to you. For all of Alec’s issues with his mother, he has never doubted that she loves him. He doesn’t know what he’d do if he lost her.

“We’ll be there soon,” Magnus says, tapping his foot. It looks imperious and impatient, but it’s just a nervous habit, Alec’s noticed.

The plane lands with a shudder and a skid of tires that makes Alec feel like he left his stomach back on a different continent.

Alec staggers to his feet as the guards start gathering Magnus’ many suitcases, and the door is popped open with a whoosh of air as the stairs unfold.

Magnus hesitates at the exit and turns back to face Alec. It’s afternoon, the bright sun shining down on him. “Hey, brace yourself," Magnus warns. “They’re expecting me and there’s a lot of photographers and paparazzi waiting. Just keep looking forward and you don’t have to answer any questions they shout out.”

Alec has gotten some training in dealing with them in the months that he’s been with Magnus, but he knows that he was sheltered there, both by campus security and the general American indifference to old-world European royalty. Americans are much more interested in the Kardashians.

Still, he’s glad he got briefed on basic royal protocol on their layover. Walk behind Magnus, do not touch him, do not speak to the press unless prepared ahead of time.

Alec takes a deep breath and steps off the plane, a swarm of clicks and flashes of light going off in his face. Magnus looks back anxiously as Alec follows behind. “What do you think?” he asks under his breath.

Alec inhales deeply. “Yes, smells like crime and a tax haven for the wealthy.”

Alec had thought he needed to be on his own to be a complete person, but what he learned is that he already was. He was always absolutely fine. Magnus just makes everything a little better, life a little richer. There is nothing gained by following the rules.

Magnus’ face is pinched and pale in the flash of the bulbs.  tapping his left foot.

Well, Alec adhered to protocol for thirty seconds. It was a good run, he thinks, as he takes Magnus’ hand and pulls him close, willing his strength to Magnus as he feels Magnus relax incrementally against him. Alec ignores the small swarm of reporters, the click of shutters, the blinding lights, and keeps his eyes on Magnus.

Always on Magnus.

 


End file.
